Chapter 22 Tate #2
I jump up, making him step back. “No one’s jealous of you and your mediocre cock.
I actually feel bad for Marco if he’s the one bottoming.
” I glance at the big man, then back to my ex, shoving my fear deep down.
“I’ve had plenty since yours, and let me tell you, Caleb, you hands down win the prize of smallest prick I’ve ever seen. Congrats!”
I swear to God, he looks like one of those old-school cartoon characters with a bright red face and steam spewing out of his ears.
“Red is not your color, honey.” I don’t know why I say it; maybe it’s the alcohol flowing through my veins, or maybe it’s my need to belittle him like he did me.
“You’re gonna regret that, cunt.” He’s absolutely seething, and I’m positive I’m about to die when the giant next to him grabs his arm.
“Let’s get out of here, Caleb,” his boyfriend murmurs to him.
“Oh, yeah?” I taunt. “I’m shaking in my loafers!” I roll my eyes and sip my beer while I stare into the fire as if I’m completely unbothered.
I still feel their eyes on me, so I swat them away with my hand. “Bye! Shoo! Shoo!” They continue to linger, and despite the tough act, it’s starting to freak me the fuck out. It’s weird, and it’s creepy, and now I’m second-guessing all the shit-talking.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch them finally leave, so I glance over, making sure they’re headed down the boardwalk away from here. Once they’re gone, I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and give up my seat by the bonfire in order to go get another beer.
That was fucking scary and intense and not at all what I was expecting tonight.
“Hey,” I say, folding my arms on top of the bar. “Can I get another?”
“You okay?” Arlo asks with a frown.
“Yeah. Fine. What do you mean?” I sound defensive even to my own ears.
“Well, I saw two big, angry guys stomping their way down the boardwalk. Followed by little you.”
“I’m not little, and I’m not responsible for any angry men,” I retort, folding my arms across my chest protectively. “I’m just looking for another beer.”
Arlo eyes me suspiciously, but he reluctantly pours me another beer, and I practically snatch it, handing him a five without saying a word.
I decide to go for a walk along the beach to clear my head from the shock of seeing Caleb after two and a half years.
I’m not sure what got into me talking shit like that.
I guess it was just pure, bottled-up rage.
I spot Kaylee by the shore with a bright flashlight, and I instantly regret my decision to go for a walk.
Now, I’m really not in the mood to talk to her.
Before I can turn around and sneak away unnoticed, she hollers for me and comes running over.
“Hey, Tate!”
“Hey, girl,” I say, busying myself by slipping off my boat shoes and leaving them next to the locked-up chair rentals. The sand is soft and still warm from the day. It sinks between my toes and hugs my feet in a cozy embrace.
Kaylee glances around like she’s searching for someone. “Are you here alone?”
I brush off her concern like I did Arlo and fib a little. “Nope. Daija should be here any minute. She’s my ride.”
“Oh, okay. Good. Well, the squad and I are headed back to the bonfire if you wanna walk with us. We’re gonna make the Kappa boys give up their seats.”
A half dozen giggling cheerleaders and homophobic frat boys? No, thank you.
“I’m actually going for a walk along the beach,” I say, motioning toward my bare feet. “But y’all have fun.”
She looks unsure, and possibly even anxious. I’m not acting like myself. I’m being emo, and we both know it. “Don’t get swept away or anything, babe. Daija would kill me.”
I chuckle at her attempt to look out for me, but mostly just herself. “Don’t worry, I won’t go out farther than I can touch.”
The wrinkle between her brows tells me she can’t decide if I’m joking or not, but I don’t wait around to convince her, disappearing into the darkness instead.
I’m still shaken after my encounter with Caleb, so I chug the rest of my beer, hoping it will help.
I rinse out the empty cup in the sea and hold onto it for the rest of my walk.
I don’t have a flashlight like Kaylee, and I don’t bother getting my phone out either.
The moon is large enough to illuminate the way, and combined with the soothing sound of crashing waves, my body finally begins to relax after everything that happened tonight.
When the shock of seeing Caleb starts to wear off, reality hits me full force.
Daija was right all along. I am letting the past control my future.
Spencer doesn’t deserve to be punished for something he never did, and I don’t deserve to be punished by the trauma my ex left me with.
Caleb’s past behavior should have no power over my love life, and I’m actually disgusted I ever let it.
Taking a deep breath of salty sea air, I release it slowly, along with a loud, frustrated sigh. Despite the alcohol pumping through my veins, I’m seeing things clearly for the first time in years, and I’m completely pissed off with myself. I can’t even imagine what Spencer is feeling right now.
Cool water laps at my ankles as tiny, broken shells bite into the soles of my feet.
I close my eyes as I continue to walk, feeling everything all too vividly.
Sand erodes beneath my feet, pulled back to sea with each retreating wave.
The tide steals my worries, leaving nothing but logical questions and rational thought behind.
Am I finally ready for a relationship?
Because I can see myself giving Spencer a chance at something more than sex.